


The Other Side Of Dreaming

by casey_sms (shinygreenwords), shinygreenwords



Category: Inception, The Social Network
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Community: tsn_kinkmeme, Crossover, F/M, M/M, Mindfuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-06
Updated: 2011-11-06
Packaged: 2017-10-25 18:24:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinygreenwords/pseuds/casey_sms, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinygreenwords/pseuds/shinygreenwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fusion with Inception. <i>It’s Wardo who hooks him up.</i></p><p>For <a href="http://tsn-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/9415.html?thread=17640391#t17640391">this prompt</a> at the <a href="http://tsn-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://tsn-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/"></a><b>tsn_kinkmeme</b>: Mark somehow gets a hold of a PASIV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Side Of Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning/kinks:** Mindfuck-y? It's an Inception fusion so that's almost a given. Skip to end for spoilers.
> 
> Inspired by the other two fills of this prompt that came before this. Thanks to [](http://slasher48.livejournal.com/profile)[**slasher48**](http://slasher48.livejournal.com/) for help and encouragement. She is truly amazing. She helped me fix the original to this version and then beta'd this one :) I LOVE YOU AND I WILL LOVE YOU UNTIL MY DYING DAYYYYYYY. All remaining errors are mine.

He needs a distraction. Something to keep his mind off her.

It’s Wardo who hooks him up.

* * *

Wardo gives him the algorithm he needs.

Then twirling the marker around his fingers, he tells him that he could get her back for him. That he could be her, if that’s what he wants. What he needs.

Mark can’t get his head around it. It sounds like a bad acid trip. It sounds crazy.

“Show me,” Mark demands.

* * *

Eduardo pulls out some briefcase looking thing that Mark had seen glimpses of before. Mark learns that it is a PAS-IV, an abbreviation for Portable Automated Somnacin IntraVenous Device. A drug machine that will take Mark to a whole new level of dreaming.

“I know it’s not very convincing still but I’ve been doing this for a long time. It’s safe. Think of it as entering a program or something,” Wardo rambles as he untangles the wires.

That gets Mark’s attention.

“It’s best if you lie down,” Wardo says. “Just close your eyes and relax.”

Mark stares at the open case with the big white button surrounded by four silver buttons like five dots on a die and the wires surrounding it. “Are you going to drug me now? What are you going to do?”

“You wanted me to show you? We don’t have to do it right now if-”

“I want to see.” Mark says, trying to sit up. He can feel the curiosity inside him swell, trying to burrow out from inside him.

Eduardo laughs but it’s not a mean laugh. He has a hand on Mark’s chest and he’s pushing him down with gentle strength. “You will, Mark. I’m getting there. You will see and then you’ll understand. You have to trust me okay? Just close your eyes and relax. I’m right here. Now on the count of three, I’m going to put you under.”

Mark closes his eyes.

* * *

Someone is tapping him on his shoulder.

He turns around.

She looked so hopeful and desperate that Mark thought she’d come to her senses.

“Hi Mark.”

“E- Erica?”

“Shit. I’m sorry Mark, I should have probably chosen someone else,” Erica says. “It’s me, um, it’s Eduardo.”

“Eduardo?” Mark says, confused for a moment because he wonders if it’s always been like that but she smiled just like him.

“This is a dream. You’re sharing my dream. I’m a forger so I can be anyone.”

“Then how do I know it’s you?”

Eduardo grins like he’s been waiting for the question. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

* * *

Eduardo shares his dreams with Mark.

After that – nothing is ever the same.

* * *

They used to share ideas.

They used to share dreams.

They used to share everything.

(Now Mark’s dreams are beautiful, perfect and empty.)

* * *

Dreaming is unreal.

Literally.

It’s like coding, only more amazing, more intricate, more addictive.

Just _more._

(By the time he figured out how to build a program and manipulate subroutines, he’d been well and truly hooked.)

* * *

Mark has known that he wanted to be an architect since the second time he went under.

(No keyboards, no computers – nothing between him and raw, direct creation.)

* * *

Mark is, and will always be, a creator.

He gets caught up in his ideas, be it coding a program or a building a dreamscape.

Wardo always comes down to get him like he would wake him up at the keyboard with a tap on his shoulder.

* * *

Eduardo tells Mark that his father, Antonio Saverin, is known as one of the greatest extractors of his time.

“But I like being a forger because I like walking in other people’s shoes,” Eduardo explains.

Mark just thinks he’s not comfortable enough in his own skin.

“I’ve got an idea, something we can try when we go under,” Mark says.

* * *

Wardo, who could be anyone, mostly appears as himself to Mark. Mark has seen a handful of his ‘skins’ but he finds that the dream feel less real when Wardo is Erica or Alice or one of the rowing crew. He is disturbingly good at being an older man whom Mark assumes is his father. Maybe it’s because he can’t help noticing the façade.

Eduardo always smells the same. Cardamom, pepper and roasted coffee.

“I prefer this,” Mark says, without thinking. “You’re an adequate forger, good even.” Mark goes on, “But this you just feels the most real to me.” He knows he’s not making much sense so he blames it on being tired and confused, walking that in-between from one reality into the next. Mark fiddles with the string of his hoodie.

“Thanks, Mark,” Wardo says, beaming, his whole face lighting up.

(This is the Wardo Mark likes more than any other.)

* * *

Mark had gone in without a totem.

Because he trusts Wardo.

He doesn’t need one.

It’s a flawed system. Physical totems perpetuate the belief that an inanimate object with a secret that only one knows can hold the key to discerning one’s reality. Because if you can’t trust your memory, you can trust a piece of metal? It’s too easy to hack. It’s an obvious weakness. All you would have to do is to tamper with someone’s totem to derail their perception of reality. It’s a psychological crutch.

Either you keep track of where you are or you get lost. It’s that simple.

(He lets Wardo assume the green dart is his totem. Mark is really just playing with it but Wardo seems so relieved, happy.

He doesn’t need to know. It’s not important.)

* * *

“Mark,” Eduardo would say disapprovingly. “You need to eat.”

“I don’t feel hungry. I want to go down a level.”

“Not here you aren’t but you need to eat. In the real world too. When was the last time you showered? You’ve been here for hours. You need to come up.”

“A few hours here is nothing,” Mark protests.

Wardo sighs. “It all adds up.”

“Just another hour down here and I’ll be done.”

Sometimes Eduardo would argue with him but too often, he gives in.

“Alright. But I’m staying to make sure you ride that kick up and stay up for at least an hour.”

(Mark likes it, Wardo watching him build worlds. Those dreams are the best.)

* * *

Eduardo sits on the bed behind him, long fingers caressing a tiny brass weathervane that he keeps spinning.

(Mark doesn’t really notice him there but he always notices when he’s _not._ )

* * *

They wait for the kick together since Wardo calculated his to match Mark’s.

Sometimes Wardo would tell him about how he learnt about the dream world. His father had taken him on some of his jobs when he was just a kid, wanting him to get a feel of dream work from a young age. Once, Wardo told him about his mother. Her eyes were chocolate brown like his and her hair fell down in long dark waves. He has never seen her except for when he shared dreams with his father. He’d been fifteen when-

(Mark never found out what happened because the kick sets in and then they wake up.)

* * *

There are a few times when Wardo takes Mark up with him forcibly.

To him, it’s like pulling a laptop’s power cable before it’s fully charged, leaving him feeling discombobulated and out of sync. It takes him several minutes to reorientate himself to his surroundings.

“I hate it when you do that.”

“You were down there for too long,” Eduardo says, without apologizing or explaining.

* * *

They make a great team, the four of them.

Dustin, with his hacking skills, turns out to be a pretty great extractor. Chris has always been good with details, so naturally he is the point man. With Wardo forging and Mark creating – they are a formidable team.

* * *

The Winklevii’s idea is the first one they extract successfully as a team. It’s a simple job. In and out. It is easy to outwit them. Their friend Divya is their weakest link.

Mark loves it.

He hasn’t been in dream work for long but already, he is intellectually and creatively capable of doing things far beyond anyone’s imagination.

(He wants to take bigger and better ideas. He could _own_ them all. He could have everything.)

* * *

Mark likes going in alone. It’s when he is most at peace and in control of the dream.

Eduardo’s projections are always cold and hostile, their gaze just that side of aggressive indifference. Chris’s ones aren’t too bad if you don’t try to talk to them. It’s hard to try to blend in with Dustin’s because he likes to draw from comic books and movies. Mark thinks his projections are the best. They tend to be self-absorbed so his projections don’t bother anyone.

(When he’s alone, his projections take care of him.

It’s nice.)

* * *

Wardo couldn’t always wait for him because he has to go to class. He doesn’t like to stay too long in dreams. He has never been too comfortable there. He is most at home in the real world.

Once, Wardo leaves behind a small gun with a neatly written note stuck to it.

_I’m just on the other side  
if you need me. - E_

(Mark never uses it, he always waits for the kick. There’s no point wasting time.)

* * *

Mark has touched it, feeling its weight in his hand. “This is a real gun, Wardo.”

“Yeah, I’ve found it works best that way,” Eduardo quirks his lip up. “So it’ll work down below too. I left spare bullets in a box in your bottom drawer.”

Mark blinks.

“May I?” Eduardo stretches out his hand.

Mark hands it over and studies the gun’s perfect fit in Wardo’s hands. It’s an elegant tool of destruction.

“It was my first gun,” Eduardo says with a pensive look. “It’s fairly simple. You aim, flick the safety off and squeeze the trigger.”

“Um,” Mark says, not exactly sure what to say. He didn’t expect this, his best friend giving him a gun. Maybe it’s just a thing Wardo does. “Okay.” He wants to ask. “But what about you?”

“Oh, I have a pair of Glocks on me at the moment,” Eduardo says casually. “My father trained me to have a weapon on me at all times. Constant vigilance and all. Now it’s a force of habit I guess,” Eduardo says with a one-shouldered shrug. “Thought you might like to have a way out on you in case you want to go up but you don’t have to or anything.” Eduardo’s face is flushed. “I prefer it because it’s quick and clean. I mean if guns aren’t your thing, I could get you something else?”

“It’s fine.” Mark really has no intention of using it. “Thank you,” Mark says belatedly.

“You’re welcome.”

* * *

“Wardo, I can’t. I’ve almost got it, I just want a little longer.”

“You’ll always want a little longer,” Wardo says. “Come on, you’ve been there long enough. Come back up with me.”

“I need to get this done, you don’t understand. I’m in the moment-”

“Mark, it’ll still be here when you get back. You need to go up.”

“Why?”

“Because this world isn’t real, Mark.”

(It’s always hard for him to let go.)

* * *

When Mark is tired enough, too exhausted and caught in the dream to go back up a second time, Wardo maneuvers him into his lap with what seems like superhuman strength.

(Mark lets him.)

“This will be quick,” Eduardo says soothingly. “It’ll be like a pinch and then we’ll be up top and everything will be okay. Just close your eyes and relax.”

Mark doesn’t understand until he sees Wardo reaching for his hidden holster. “No,” Mark mumbles because he’s doesn’t want to, he’s not ready. He still has all these ideas-

“C’mon, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Close your eyes.”

Wardo is counting backwards slowly under his breath and then he does what Mark can’t.

* * *

The deeper down he goes, the more he remembers.

They say it’s dangerous to build on memory because you lose track of which is which.

Mark always remembers.

(He works to improve things like a second version. His dreams are always better.)

* * *

Mark remembers because he has to. It’s the thing which makes him great, invincible.

He is going to be the best architect in the world. The best architect of all time.

(He can build landscapes out of nothing. He can build worlds woven with memories. He has entire empires in his mind, waiting to be unlocked.)

* * *

The first time Eduardo brings him down two levels he asks Mark to trust him.

Mark does and he goes under.

“I promise. I’ll be on the other side.”

* * *

When Mark opens his eyes, Wardo is next to him.

_I’m here for you._

* * *

Wardo doesn’t understand. Mark hasn’t been trying to keep him out.

He’s been trying to build a world for them.

Inception is a means to an end.

Final Clubs are nothing compared to what he has in store.

He’s talking about _a whole new level_.

(Three levels. Mark is going to go for the impossible.)

* * *

“The world you’re in is just a dream. It’s not real.”

Mark knows of worlds in computers, in games, in the imagination. They are never any less real.

Wardo doesn’t understand that. He sticks to using a totem. In the dreamspace, he’s always spinning it. It doesn’t take a genius to work out the secret. It’s a weakness that leaves him open to inception.

(Wardo is their weakest link.)

* * *

Mark has begun the process of fortifying his mind’s defenses. He has considered militarizing it but he decided against it just in case his projections ever turn on him. He doesn’t want to trap himself in limbo.

Wardo appears, harried and breathless, having made it into the inner sanctum of Mark’s fortress.

“Do you think we’ll really need this?” Eduardo says quietly.

“Trust me,” Mark begins. “We’re going to need a lot more security than this if we’re going to go down another level.”

* * *

Mark doesn’t like to sleep. He never liked it but it had been a necessary thing. Like showering and eating.

He doesn’t mind that he doesn’t dream naturally anymore. It’s waste of time and his dreams.

He builds dreams for days and days. Under, he can make his dreams into reality.

(He is safe.)

* * *

Mark wakes up and Wardo is there, tapping his cheek.

“Jesus Mark, I thought I’d lost you. You cannot keep doing this. I just can’t take it okay? You scared me.”

“I didn’t mean to be gone for so long,” Mark mumbles, embarrassed and relieved. “I wasn’t done yet.”

“You can’t keep doing that. It’s not safe to go so far down for that long. This is weeks of time we’re talking about.”

“It was only a few hours, Wardo.”

* * *

“Please Mark, promise me.”

Mark doesn’t promise but he doesn’t say he won’t either.

* * *

“I need to go down again.”

Wardo doesn’t say anything, lips pressed into a thin line of condemnation.

(He doesn’t have to.)

* * *

He doesn’t remember the last time Eduardo came down with him. Or the last time Wardo smiled.

That’s what they’ve become now.

* * *

Wardo may have thought that he didn’t have his attention but Mark notices, he does.

(Even if Eduardo isn’t really listening. Wardo doesn’t understand.)

He just needs to finish building his dream.

* * *

It goes like this: Eduardo goes to class and Mark does the bare minimum to pass.

Eduardo goes up to be in the real world and Mark is down, down creating a future that most people can only dare to dream about.

Then Mark gets an email from Sean Parker inviting him out for dinner.

* * *

Sean is unreliable and unpredictable and incredible.

He created Napster from an idea. It had been a fear actually, stolen from a record music executive. He took it and then he made something out of it.

Mark tells him about everything. Starting with Eduardo.

“So where the hell is Eduardo?”

Mark fidgets as he works up an answer. “He’s busy.”

“Sucking up to ad execs and investors.”

“He’s busy,” Mark repeats, feeling the need to defend Eduardo.

“You’re here. You’re the architect. You’re the key. Do you live and breathe your dreams?”

Mark nods as Sean signals the waitress for another round of drinks. Sean’s date excuses herself to go to the bathroom.

“You know why I started Napster?” Sean says, raising his voice over the pounding music.

“The girl I loved in high school was with the co-captain of varsity lacrosse team and I wanted to take her from him. I had this idea, what if I could make her fall in love with me but make her think it’s her idea? I didn’t think it could be done but I decided to come up with the next big thing.”

“I didn't know that.”

“Napster wasn't a failure. I changed the dream industry for better and for always. It may not have been good business but it pissed a lot of people off. People deserve to know that they can steal ideas – and then share them. Whatever you do with dream technology is up to you.”

Sean gets it.

A gun is a gun.

It’s not dangerous. It’s not bad. It’s a tool. It’s there to be used.

* * *

“A million dollars isn’t cool, you know what’s cool?”

Sean pauses for dramatic effect.

“An idea. All you need is one great idea. It’s worth more than a billion dollars.”

That’s how Mark knows Sean really gets it.

(Wardo isn’t even here.)

* * *

He’s just coming out of it when he sees Wardo. He’s agitated, spinning his totem angrily.

“What is he doing here?”

“Wardo, this is Sean.”

Sean steps in. “Sean Parker, nice to finally meet you,” he says, holding out a hand.

Eduardo pointedly ignores it. “Yeah, but Mark, what is he doing here?”

“He’s helping us,” Mark says.

“Right,” Eduardo says in an unconvinced tone.

Mark shrugs.

* * *

“Mark, your dreams are amazing. They’re like- they’re like the biggest acid trip I’ve ever been on but better. Like the really good stuff, you know? They’re amazing. People are going to want this. They’re going to want your dream and they don’t even know it yet. You’re going to make them want it. You could be a great programmer, sure, but you’re an exceptional architect.”

Mark doesn’t need anyone to tell him that but it’s nice to know other people know it too.

That’s when he knows that Harvard doesn’t matter, reality doesn’t matter.

* * *

Wardo is wrong. The future is in the dream world. The virtual.

The world up above pales in comparison to it.

* * *

Sean says a lot of bullshit that Mark nods at. But he understands chemistry, he knows how important drugs are to stabilizing dream levels. He understands security, that you are only as safe as your vulnerable body up above. Most of all, he understands the potency of ideas.

“What is the most resilient parasite? Bacteria? A virus? An intestinal worm? An idea. Resilient... highly contagious. Once an idea has taken hold of the brain it's almost impossible to eradicate. An idea that is fully formed - fully understood - that sticks; right in there somewhere. The smallest seed of an idea can grow. It can grow to define or destroy you.”

* * *

Sean tells them about the big ideas in Silicon Valley. How rival companies pit teams against each other in the dream world – to steal, to defend, to build.

“It’s as much about the dreamspace as it is about the cyberspace here. It’s all up here,” Sean says, tapping his temple unnecessarily.

* * *

It’s a simple idea: they will perform inception on the investors to prove that it works.

It was never about the money but about doing the impossible.

(It would be the beginning.)

* * *

It’s a point of contention and tension.

Watching Sean and Eduardo argue is like watching an invisible tug of war over ideas.

“Why can’t we just sell the idea of inception to an investor instead? Why do we have to actually do it to someone? It’s wrong and it’s- it’s violating them.”

“How’s it different, extracting ideas or making someone think they’re seeing someone when you forge?”

“It’s different,” Eduardo insists. “This is actively planting a memory into someone. It could change them completely.”

“Which is the point. You forget that we’re talking about Silicon Valley sharks here,” Sean drawls as he leans against the doorway. “As long as they make money in the end, they aren’t going to care. Plus if you’re selling inception, you're going to be doing it at some point so you might as well get your hands dirty now.”

Eduardo exhales loudly and gets up to leave.

“You know if you’re that worried about violating people’s minds, dream work is not the right industry for you.”

Eduardo glares at Sean.

Sean throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I’m just sayin’.”

Mark has to agree with Sean because he has a point.

* * *

“You’ve got to come Wardo, Sean showed me this- I’ve found a way to build- I don’t even know how to describe it. You need to come and see this. It’s amazing.”

“I can’t Mark, I’ve got a meeting scheduled. You know, the one I told you about? In real life? Maybe later.”

* * *

“Mark, you know it’s not real right? It’s just a dream.”

It had been their dream.

“Whatever,” Mark says, pulling the PAS-IV to his wrist forcefully.

* * *

“Saverin didn’t come down? He didn’t take the leap of faith with you, did he?”

They haven’t been on the same _level._

* * *

They’re moving faster and further than Mark had thought of.

They need a forger. It makes sense that if Sean is there then he takes Wardo’s place.

(Just until-)

* * *

Mark tells Wardo about Inception, how he’s going to do the impossible. “You’ve got to come down, you have to see,” Mark says.

Mark still remembers when Wardo understood you had to see to understand. To believe. Of course it’s not same as reality but he knows the difference.

(The difference is that Mark trusted Wardo. That meant something. It changed everything.)

* * *

“Sean?” Mark says without opening his eyes. “I think I’m almost there.”

There’s a cup of water being pressed to his hand.

He’d recognize the scent of him anywhere. Spicy and sweet like rich woods.

“Wardo?” Mark says, blinking.

* * *

Mark has just surfaced when he finds Wardo there staring at him. His face is tight, pinched.

“You’re sticking the PAS-IV in your ankle? Christ. You’re not taking care of yourself. You’re malnourished and dehydrated. It’s getting harder and harder to find somewhere to put the drip, right? Dammit, I knew this was going to happen. Mark, you _can’t_ do this. It’s not healthy. It’s downright dangerous. You’re going to lose your grip on reality.”

* * *

“You’re going to get left behind.”

“Yeah, well you’ve got your head stuck so far in dreamland, do you even know what’s real anymore? One day I’m not going to be able to pull you out because you’ve walled yourself in and you’re going to end up in limbo, how’s that going to work for you?”

“Better than getting nowhere in reality,” Mark snaps.

“Do you know what you sound like? You sound like my father and he went- he went crazy. He was disappointed with reality all the time. Fuck, I can’t watch you do this to yourself, Mark.”

* * *

Mark never told Sean about the fortress but he has a feeling Sean will understand.

(Both about the need for a safe place and not telling him. Of all people he should get the need for security. Paranoia is just being careful because there are really people after you.)

* * *

“Look I’m telling you as a friend. You need someone who isn’t afraid to push the limits of reality, Mark. You need someone who can really believe in the existence of alternate realities. Wardo wants to play it safe, I get it. But what we have is better. This is cool, what you’re doing. This is going to help change the definition of reality for a lot of people. You’re talking about making people’s dreams come true. You’re not going to let the grown-ups tell you that dreaming is for kids and rock stars. No, you’re going to show the world that there’s something out of this world.” Sean put his hand on Mark’s shoulder and squeezes once. “This is our time.”

* * *

The contract proves Sean right.

Eduardo is no longer part of their team.

(But Eduardo hasn’t been with them for a long time. Almost half a decade in dream time.)

* * *

The deposition goes by in a blur.

Wardo is sitting opposite him, the table between them.

It feels like he’s worlds away.

* * *

Mark goes home and he goes under.

Mark goes under and he goes _home._

There’s work to be done.

* * *

Time drags without Wardo.

It is as if reality was a level below where it should really be.

* * *

Mark’s tired.

He closes his eyes just for a moment and is reminded of a memory, like a half-remembered dream.

(Wardo tells him to close his eyes and when he does, there’s the soothing countdown and Wardo takes him away.)

* * *

When he awakes, he’s alone.

He checks the surveillance cameras for his fortress.

He tells himself he’s relieved when there is no one.

(This is what he wanted.)

* * *

When Mark goes down, the settlement feels like it’s years away.

(It hurts less.)

* * *

His fortress is his work in progress.

It’s done and he can live there but he’ll always be trying to make it better, stronger.

He has to keep other, unsolicited dreamers out.

It’s the only way to ensure the integrity of his ideas.

He is alone but-

he is safe.

(This is his world.)

* * *

The layout of it is reminiscent of Kirkland.

Where it all began.

It’s not quite Kirkland because there were too many structural faults and it was too open.

It is Kirkland 2.0.

He puts the dart in his drawer, battered and slightly bent from being carried around, and after checking that the safety is on, lays the gun next to it. He reaches in his pocket for his note. The post-it is no longer sticky. It’s crumpled, furry at the back where it’s picked up the lint from Mark’s hoodie. Mark puts it in with the other items anyway, face down so he doesn’t have to see the faded but familiar handwriting. He checks that the spare bullets are in the bottom drawer.

He doesn’t need them.

(But he doesn’t get rid of them. Just in case.)

* * *

Nothing is new when you can build literally anything.

This is his dream.

He’s living his dream.

He’s made it.

* * *

Downward is the only way forward.

* * *

Mark has this dream that he’s never told anyone else about – not even Chris and Dustin.

He’s not ashamed or anything. It’s just private.

It’s his secret.

It’s a world where he created a website with Wardo and they changed the world together.

He turns to Wardo and says, “We did it.”

“Yeah, we did.”

And Wardo is next to him, his arm slung around him and he feels on top of the world.

(It’s just a dream. Everyone has dreams.)

* * *

Wardo never comes to get him anymore.

(Wardo is on the other side. The other side of the world.)

He’s not allowed to call him ‘Wardo’.

He’s not allowed to talk to him at all.

* * *

Mark tries not to let himself think about it.

The idea is dangerous.

(Of course that doesn’t work and it’s all he can think of.)

* * *

He has always believed that reality is what you make of it. You have to go for it.

He knows what he wants.

All he has to do is to make himself forget that he wanted it.

That is what he needs.

* * *

He asks Sean to hook him up with the good stuff. Something really strong.

* * *

Mark is in a bathroom somewhere. There’s the taste of alcohol and vomit in his mouth. He doesn’t remember how he got there. It must be a dream. A bad dream.

He wants to wake up but he can’t.

All he has on him is his cell and his dart.

(It’s not real so what harm can it do?)

* * *

“Fuck this. I told myself I wasn’t going to pick up. I’m not going to let you do this to me. God, I’m going to need so much therapy just from this. Mark, I know it’s you okay? I’m going to hang up on you in the next three seconds if you don’t stop breathing down the line like a creepy stalker.”

(Three. Two. One-)

He needs Wardo. Wardo has always, nearly always, given him what he needs.

“Right. Now what do you need that you can’t just take from me?” The question is heavily laced with sarcasm.

Mark tells him. It takes him a while to find the words but he does.

“God. I don’t even know what to say. Fuck.” Wardo’s voice sounds like he’s choking. “Fucking hell. I can’t deal with this right now. I’m done with the dreaming shit. I don’t do that anymore. I’m certainly not going to put a gun to your head and- and shoot you just because you want a reality check. Get a new totem. Get therapy. I don’t care what you do but you need help. I can’t believe you even asked me that. Are you crazy? This is real, Mark. What the fuck. Did you really think I could agree to that? Why me? Why can’t you ask Sean fucking Parker if he’s so brilliant. Just what do you want from me?”

_I just want you to take me away._

* * *

There’s no point in regretting.

Mark has been holding himself back for so long and he was tired and drunk when he did it. It was rather predictable and pathetic. He remembers listening to the dialtone singing to him to sleep. When he wakes up, he is sick.

(It isn’t a dream. No one is trying to steal anything from his mind or plant anything there. It’s just a hangover.)

* * *

Chris almost has an aneurysm when he finds out. Right before giving him the number of a therapist that Mark has no intention of calling.

Dustin’s face goes all blotchy but it’s probably because (he says) he has a cold.

Mark makes them both promise not to tell his parents in return for a promise of his own.

(It’s not going to happen again.)

* * *

Mark should know better. It’s stupid. You can’t perform inception on yourself any more than extracting your own memories.

No matter what he does, he can’t make himself forget.

(Even if he forgives him, he can never forget.)

He can’t even make himself sleep without drugs. It’s a common side-effect from dream work.

Still, he’s a billionaire. He has everything at his disposal.

He’s so very tempted.

But-

It’s private.

* * *

Mark is building a bridge when he sees him.

“What are you doing here?”

He turns to look at him. His smile is still the same.

“I came to see you. I think you miss me.”

“I do,” Mark says easily. “But you’re not real.”

“So?” Wardo says with a shrug.

He stays to watch Mark build.

* * *

It’s just like it always used to be.

Mark creating worlds from his mind and Wardo is just… there for him.

(“Oh my god, Mark,” Chris says. “You really need help.”)

(Dustin doesn’t say anything but he can’t stop staring.)

(“What’s he doing here?” Sean asks, more curious than anything.)

Sean is the only one who doesn’t see it as a sign that Mark’s cracking up.

Mark knows it’s not real, okay? His subconscious is making Wardo into a projection.

It makes sense since Wardo brought him into the dream world. So his mind makes a connection between Wardo and dreams. It’s logical.

It’s a pity that even this Wardo hates Sean.

* * *

Mark thinks about what he would say to Wardo if he saw him again.

The real one.

He can’t say he’s sorry about what happened because he wouldn’t mean it. Not in the way Wardo wants.

He’d do it all over again.

But he does feel bad about how it happened.

He doesn’t even remember how it started to unravel.

* * *

His dreams are collapsing around him.

Mark needs help.

This is something he can’t fix by himself. It’s too big for him to handle. Too much.

He punches in the number he told himself he wouldn’t use and presses call.

* * *

He’s been building for days, weeks. It feels like years. Reality is wrapped under layers of dreams and fatigue. He feels like an old man filled with regret and waiting-

Alone.

“Mark?”

It’s Wardo. He would know that voice anywhere.

He doesn’t look like he’s aged a day. His hair is still ridiculously poofy and he’s wearing an impeccable suit. It’s probably Prada.

“You came for me,” Mark blurts out before saying, “War- Eduardo, what are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here.”

“Mark! Jesus. It’s really you. I’ve found you. I was so worried. We’re so worried. Dustin and Chris found you in your apartment, all hooked up. You wouldn’t wake up. They sent me to get you. God, I’ve never been this far down. What have you done?”

“Nothing you’d be interested in,” Mark says condescendingly, recalling with painful precision that Wardo doesn’t care anymore. This can’t be real.

“Nothing like playing with limbo?” Wardo says knowingly with an arch of his brow. “I know you, Mark. You made it seem like you’re so busy building that you’ve forgotten to come up. Anyone else would fall for that but I know you’re better than that. You don’t want to come up, you wanted to stay down here in your fortress to prove some sort of a point. Except maybe…maybe you’ve forgotten about all the people waiting for you at the surface. People who love and care about you. We’re worried about you.” Eduardo shoves his hands into the pockets of his suit. “I was really worried. I didn’t know if I’d be able to find you.”

“Thought you hated me and are mad at me.”

Eduardo sighs. “I am mad at you but I never hated you. I couldn’t do that. And even if I’m mad at you that doesn’t mean I don’t care.” In a softer voice, “I’ll always care.”

“Everyone up there thinks I’ve gone crazy,” Mark says flatly.

“Since when did you care about what everyone thinks? Do you feel like you’re crazy?”

“It doesn’t matter what I feel like. If I were crazy, I wouldn’t be able to tell. Therefore, my opinion is unreliable and irrelevant.” Mark examines Eduardo who is looking at him with concern etched in his face. “You think I’m crazy too.”

“I think,” says Eduardo slowly, “that you need to go back to reality and rest. Everything else can wait.”

Mark narrows his eyes. “You’re avoiding the topic.” He cocks his head to the side. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

“If you are crazy, and I mean _if_ you are, it shouldn’t matter what I think,” Eduardo says gently, more kindly than he should be. It’s the right answer. “Please Mark. We’re all so worried.”

“How do I know it’s really you? How do I know you’re not just a projection? How do I know you’re not like Sean or another forger? How do I know I’m not just going to get stuck in limbo trying to go up?” There are too many unknowns. Mark crosses his arms. “War- Eduardo doesn’t like to come this far down. He wouldn’t- He’s not like that now. He quit dream work.”

“Chris and Dustin are really worried, they called me in. You’re right, I did quit dream work but-” Eduardo stops, running a hand through his hair. “I told you I’d come back for everything,” Eduardo says lightly. The joke falls flat. “I came back for you.”

It’s what he wants to hear but it’s too much. Too good to be true. Mark shrugs.

“You were 26 in the year 2010 when you won TIME Person of the Year. That night, you got spectacularly drunk and called me up. You asked me where I was. Then you said you needed me and begged me to come down and get you.” Wardo isn’t looking at him. He’s holding up his miniature weathervane. He’s playing with it like he always does. It’s spinning, spinning. “And I told you I was just on the other side and that,” his voice cracks and he looks up then. “I’m always here for you. I’ve come back for you, Mark. This world isn’t real and you know that.”

“You could still be a projection. My projections would know all of what you just told me. Probably because my subconscious wanted you to know, wanted you to come.” Mark swallows and forges on. “You could be lying. This could all be a trick.” There’s no way of telling. Mark can feel his resolve crumbling like damaged dreamscapes.

“It could be. Either I’m real or not real. You’ll just have to take a leap of faith with me.” Wardo takes a step closer. “Come with me and we can work things out. Together.”

When Mark doesn’t step back, Wardo steps forward again and enfolds Mark in his arms. He smells just like Mark imagines he would.

“Wardo? It’s really you?” His voice is muffled against Wardo’s chest. He doesn’t mean it to come out as a question but he hopes so much. With Wardo here, he doesn’t have anything to lose.

Wardo pulls away for a moment to give him a wry smile. “Yes. Think it’s time to go up, don’t you?”

Mark is so relieved. “Yeah, I’m done here.”

(Three, two, one-)

* * *

They’re on the top floor, looking down on the empire that Mark built. The PAS-IV lies on floor behind them, almost forgotten.

Wardo’s hand is warm on his when he finally says the words that Mark has been waiting to hear.

_I’m ready now. Let’s go together._

* * *

“No! Stop!”

Wardo stops, lowering the gun. “Mark, what’s wrong? The sedative would have worn off by now, you’re not going to end up in limbo. Trust me, I’m not going to- I wouldn’t risk it. You’re too important to me.”

“No, that wasn’t what- I mean- What if you’re not there when I wake?” Mark says, latching onto Wardo. Just in case.

“I’ll be there. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“But what if it’s not- this isn’t- Just _what if…?_ ”

“When have I not been there?”

Mark can think of the times he hasn’t been but it feels like a long time ago. “Just- could we? Can we wait for the kick just this once?”

Eduardo looks at his watch. “We’ll have a few hours until the kick. Our kicks might not be perfectly synced,” Wardo warns, giving him a look, his brown eyes doleful. “You think that’s such a good idea?”

“Please,” Mark says, refusing to let go of Wardo’s hand. Now that Wardo is here, he wants more time. Just a little longer. Just in case. He doesn’t care what level they are on. As long as they are together. “Tell me about that time, when you were fifteen.”

“Alright,” Wardo says, squeezing back. “If we get separated, you know where to find me. I’m just on the other side. I promise.”

* * *

It’s dark. It’s too dark to see.

He knows he’s in his room. There’s a flashing blue light where his laptop is sleeping.

The items are in his drawer, where they always are. Mark’s fingers skip over the dart and hone in on the cold metal barrel. He takes the gun out, the smooth handle fitting in his palm perfectly. The weight tells him that it’s loaded.

Mark knows how to do it. He knows he can do it.

It’s just a matter of actually doing it.

(One: aim, Two: safety off, Three: pull the trigger.)

This is something he has to do for himself.

* * *

(They’re all projections. He knows because he made them.

It’s a dream.

A dream with three levels to be exact.)

One more to go.

He’s almost there.

* * *

Mark doesn’t need to read the yellow note with Eduardo’s neat cursive script to know what it says. He’s read it enough times to have the words inscribed so deeply in his memory that he can’t forget it even if he tried.

The gun is in his hand.

It’s been far too long. He doesn’t want to wait anymore.

He misses Wardo.

**Author's Note:**

> [Implied unspecified childhood issues for Eduardo. Implied possible insanity and/or suicide for Mark.]


End file.
